


Homecoming: A Story of Beginnings

by CaptainOcie



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kink, M/M, Sickfic, illness/comfort, sneeze kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainOcie/pseuds/CaptainOcie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki gets a bad headcold in Stark tower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming: A Story of Beginnings

            Sunlight permeated Loki Laufeyson’s eyelids. Squeezing his eyes even tighter closed, and shutting as much brightness away from him as possible, he tried to will morning away. There was a dull, persistent ache just behind his brow, and the bed he lay in was cool, soft, and comforting. He thought back on the previous day and grasped for how he’d managed to get home, as of yet unwilling to get up, or even move.  
           He’d been having drinks with Stark, as promised. They were bonding over mutually exchanged bad-father anecdotes, as well as over growing up with the expectations of greatness looming ever-presently throughout their lost childhoods. Loki remembered feeling actually somewhat akin to Stark… or had he started calling him Tony? He almost felt as if he’d been accepted for once…  
           He supposed it didn’t really matter, though, now that he was home, and no longer surrounded by whatever hospitalities had been granted him the night before. His spirits wilted at the thought of interacting with his so-called family. Maybe he could sleep in a little more. At least until the headache had gone and he could focus on dealing with dramatic, loud, goody-goody—That’s when he heard it.  
            “Good morning, Sir,” was accompanied by a faint mechanical whine and,  
            “Jarvis, keep it down. What time is it?” came a groggy voice. Loki recognized its belonging to a certain billionaire philanthropist, who sounded to be in a connecting room.  
            “Four p.m., Sir,” the exchange continued.  
            “Oh, good. I’d thought I overslept. Jarvis, waffles and coffee?”  
            “I’ll get right on it, Sir.”

             Loki’s eyes flew open, and then snapped shut again. He winced at the flood of pain that shot through his skull upon confronting daylight. Raising a hand to cast a protective shadow over most of his face, he slowly sat up to survey the master suite of Stark Tower, and drew the sheets close with his free hand, to cover his bareness. What had exactly gone on last night? Opposite the bed was a wall of windows, displaying New York City below, and letting in as much sun as Loki could stand. The bedroom carpet was thick and white, and ended at the bathroom door, through which Tony Stark was entering. He was tying a red cotton dressing gown around himself as he walked, and beneath it was wearing a dark red pair of boxers. His lapels were lined with neat golden stitch work. Just behind said lapels, peeking over the space where the plush fabric overlapped, Loki could make out the blue glow of the Tony’s arc reactor.    
            Tony looked up and caught Loki’s eye. A mischievous grin beamed warm from his face, and he flashed Loki a wink in greeting.  
            “Hey, good-lookin,” he said.  
            Tony mounted the bed, and crawled up by his pillows to sit, dangling one leg lazily from the mattress. The flirtatious tone and playboy smirk felt oddly familiar, and a vibrato tingling stirred in Loki’s abdomen. Maybe this situation was beginning to play out for the better. Or maybe it already had? A spicy comfort settled in around Loki as he contemplated this. Still, he was nude, and in a bed he only vaguely remembered his knees biting into the night before, piecing together with great difficulty an evening of drinking and debauchery.  
            The entire experience was foreign to him. Though drinking is a common recreational activity on Asgard, he was never really one to partake in it. That was more his brother Thor’s cup of tea. Loki was more inclined to quiet games of solitary chess. He tried to remember if he and Tony had spoken about any of that- the solitude of not fitting in. They must have, at some point, since Loki managed to remember sharing these feelings of familial betrayal, and since they had indeed ventured into Bad Father Territory, his brother and his brother’s friends were bound to have come up.  
            It was perhaps for this reason that for the first time in his life, when he was around Tony, Loki really felt like he belonged. Well, no, not for the first time. He’d felt a similar belonging on the day of Thor’s coronation, fighting alongside his brother, Lady Sif, and the Warriors three. Fighting against the frostgiants, before he’d found out that he was one of them. He felt a pang in his chest as thoughts of the day that followed flitted through his memory. He pushed it quickly from his mind. With Tony, last night, and even this morning, it was different. There was no pain there, only camaraderie. Indeed, Loki doubted whether he’d ever felt so close to someone in his life.  
            Loki scrubbed a hand over his face, taking a deep breath and then letting it out. Letting go, a tiny little bit, of the pain that haunted him through the years, or at least shoving it temporarily beyond his grasp. He turned to look at Tony, still smirking at him, and a playful smile crept onto his own face.  
            “Good morning,” Loki said flirtatiously, inching back to be on level with him. He was surprised to hear the sound of his own voice a bit deeper and rougher in his mouth than it usually was. He cleared his throat, which triggered a cough that he just barely managed to suppress.  
            Tony didn’t seem to notice. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, stretching his arm out to rest on the edge of the headboard, “I’m having Jarvis make waffles. You like waffles, right?”  
            In fact, waffles were the first earthly food Loki had ever eaten, and as such were more or less his favorite. “Wonderful.” Loki responded, to both questions at once. He wondered where his clothes were. He didn’t see them on the floor, or hanging over anything. Noticing Loki scanning the room, Tony held up a finger and turned to his nightstand, where a folded set of fabric was laying.  
            “I’m having your clothes dry-cleaned,” he said, “try these.”  
            Loki took the clothes from Tony in bewilderment, examining them. They were a set of cotton robes to match Tony’s own, but in green.  
            “When did you have these made?”  
            “I picked them up yesterday, after you fell asleep. Do you like them?” Tony asked. Loki slid his arms easily into the sleeves of the luxurious garment.  
            “You didn’t have to do that.” he said. The robe felt nicer against his skin than any cloth he’d worn before, harkening to memories of fuzzy baby animals. His argument of protest was an extremely weak one. Loki grinned widely as he wrapped the dressing gown around himself and tied it loosely across his abs.  
            “It’s the least I can do,” Tony said.  
            “How do I look?” Loki asked in earnest.

            The dark green cloth lay across Loki’s skin like a lush green forest framing the moon, his hair the night sky and his eyes glowing planets.  
            “You look amazing.” Tony said sincerely, smiling like a chesire cat and crawling up onto the bed properly to close the distance between Loki and himself. Being a frequent drinker, Tony remembered the whole of the night before in near perfect detail. Loki understood like no one else had what it felt like to grow up with a distant father, to always have tried his hardest only for it to never be enough for the only person he wanted to impress. He knew how it was to have never felt accepted, loved, or wanted, and furthermore he knew what it was like to have to fight to prove yourself. Tony couldn’t help but imagine himself turning out much to be the same as Loki if he’d have lost his own battle. Looking past that, he and Loki had more, still, in common. Loki was funny, had a flare for the dramatic, and had extremely good taste in sexual positions. Even his devilish smile seemed vaguely familiar. Tony really had no choice but to fall for him quickly and with abandon.  
            He wrapped an arm around his new lover’s shoulders and gave him a hasty kiss on the temple. Loki startled immediately at the contact, and Tony’s heart stopped for a beat or two of uncertainty, but resumed beating when Loki’s body relaxed and he shifted over to rest against him.

            As Loki lay against Tony’s chest, enjoying the warm and steady rise and fall of his breathings, he wondered how all of this had gone so unusually well. It was a stroke of pure luck on the darkest of days; gold dust in a barren abyss. He continued struggling to remember details or even highlights of the previous night, but it served only to worsen his headache. The quiet pain was growing more bothersome by the minute. He pinched gently between his eyes, in an effort to alleviate his suffering, but only caused a jolt to prickle through his nose. His body shook the bed as he sneezed into his hand, an odd and almost strangled sound. A fresh wave of pressure bloomed in Loki’s head and he grimaced with his eyes closed, groaning internally before giving a wet sniffle and apologizing. He was now acutely aware that his breath had become too warm upon exhaling, as well. Damn. So much for his good luck.          

            “Bless. You feelin’ okay?” Tony asked, concern hiding under the veil of a teasing tone. Loki sniffled again before responding, “My head’s been aching since I woke up, actually. I should go home.”  
            “What, back to Asgard? Isn’t that a hostile environment?” Tony sassed back. Loki paused, stress flickering for a moment through his eyes.  
            “While you have a point, I don’t want to impose. I seem to have contracted some sort of midgardian malady.” he said. He was about to protest further when Tony interjected, insisting.  
            “All the more reason to stay. It’s not imposing,” He said, adding on for good measure, “And I _have your clothes_.”  
            Tony saw the arguments shut down in Loki’s face, reflected in the windows across from the bed. The smirk returned to his face and he then turned his attention to breakfast. “Jarvis, how about those waffles?”        
            Mechanical arms whined quietly out from beneath the bed and from a secret hatch in the ceiling, and deposited a tray with two plates of hot blueberry waffles complete with melty pats of butter on Tony’s night table, along with a stout pitcher of hot coffee, and two mugs.  
            “Will that be all, sir?” Jarvis inquired.  
            “Yep. That’ll do it.” Tony said, already offering a warm plate to Loki. “Waffle?”

           They ate in relative quiet, with only the sounds of chewing, utensils scraping, and Loki’s occasional sniffles to punctuate the silence. It was all oddly peaceful. Loki discreetly wriggled deeper into Tony’s arms, and cast his gaze at the cloud-free sky beyond the glass wall in front of him. He allowed his thoughts to drift to a hushed and distant state. The coffee was hot, and it wasn’t too strong. Each swallow was strangely soothing to his throat, which had grown sore when he wasn’t paying attention. Neither he nor Tony was quite used to this sort of morning, but the both of them had the whispering suspicion that they could adjust to it with ease. When breakfast was over, Jarvis took the plates and put them away, while Tony flirted Loki into a having a hot shower with him.

           Even though bathmats were placed generously in strategic locations around the room, the washroom of the master suite was chillier than the bedroom, due largely to the stone tiling adorning the floor. Tony adjusted the temperature of the water rushing from multiple showerheads in the bath, while Loki imagined that the cool tiles had a very nice effect in the summertime. However, he was presently shivering discreetly as he could and eyeing the robe that he’d hastily shed minutes ago. Half frost-giant, Loki only chilled when under the weather, and he didn’t enjoy the sensation.  
           “ _Yyhyecsh!”_ Loki sneezed into his closed fist, hunching over. Before he could straighten and hug his arms around himself for warmth once more, he was overcome again, “ _Hh…Hyyyyxcsh!”_  
           Tony turned around, concern painting his features upon seeing Loki wrapped around himself and trembling. He picked his own robe off the floor, draped it around Loki’s shoulders, and guided him to the ledge of the shower to sit down. Loki gradually stopped shivering as steam began to rise from the water streaming into the large glass-paneled bathtub behind him.

             Once he determined that the temperature of the shower was both hot enough to enjoy and cool enough to survive, Tony Stark placed a gentle kiss on Loki’s forehead and led him by the hand into its soothing waters, brushing his dressing gown to the floor as he did so. It was then Tony’s turn to startle at sudden contact, as Loki immediately pressed into him upon losing his only piece of insulating clothing. All the same, Tony held him close and petted his hair, allowing the hot water to engulf him and warm him through.  
            After several minutes of standing like that, Tony began suspecting the hot wetness he felt on his neck and collarbones to be tears. He made no comment on it. He remembered the night before, when he’d choked up over his own demons and Loki had comforted him rather than needle him about his emotions. Tony slid his arm a bit tighter around Loki’s back and continued to run his fingers through his hair intimately. It would have been impossible for either man to say how much time passed like that. It may have been five minutes, or it may have been forty. When at last Loki calmed and pulled away, his face stained with shame and turned towards the floor, Tony cupped his hand beneath Loki’s chin, looked deep into his green eyes, and gingerly placed a kiss on the bridge of his nose. Loki offered a weak smile at him in response and sniffled, looking remarkably small despite nearly matching Tony in height.  
            Tony kept his gaze as he tenderly massaged three-in-one into Loki’s hair, fingers caressing the scalp in steady circles over his crown, gliding sensually down behind his ears, and brushing softly at the nape of his neck in a luxurious chocolate-scented lather. Loki’s eyes closed under heavy lids, and in his next deep breath some tension within him seemed to come apart, as a rubber band finally giving out to opposing forces, or as one abruptly awakens from a distinctly paralyzing dream. When his eyes opened again, there was a dire, passionate need burning through them.  
            He pulled Tony close and pressed his lips firmly onto his mouth. Loki held Tony at every available point; gripping him tightly by the torso as well as by the back of his neck. The kiss smoldered as it deepened, and became soft, giving, and all-enveloping. The two of them parted briefly so that Loki could breathe and then kissed again, swinging directly beneath a stream of water, so that they kissed with eyes closed and occasionally gasping for air. They folded into each other, sinking gradually to the floor as each man gave more and more of himself over to the other, a slow, crackling heat rising around them.  
            Tony nibbled Loki’s collar bone and traced his tongue over the contour, Loki’s eyes growing wide. He emitted a passionate snarl and dragged his nails around Tony’s back and ribs, before grabbing his shoulder with one hand and squeezing tightly. Tony’s spine arched back as the Loki’s nails dug into his flesh, before rolling back down to lick slowly from the center of Loki’s chest up to the side of his neck, to his ear lobe, which he sucked tremblingly.  
            Endless moments later it was over, and they were two shuddering, sighing bodies on the floor of the bath, entwined in each other and sharing one another’s breath. Tony pressed a kiss onto Loki’s cheek and smiled at him. Loki hugged him closer for a minute before suggesting that they now use the shower to actually become clean.  
            They continued to lounge on the shower floor while they washed each other, pausing now and then for kisses and laughter. When finally they decided to shut the water and leave the bath, Tony reached out of the shower doors and grabbed the towel hanging over the room’s only space heater. He wrapped it around Loki to keep him from catching another chill.

            After the shower, Loki had dressed in a clean cotton longsleeve and some comfortable black slacks that Tony had given him. The shirt was about a size too big, but it was lined with silken fuzzy material and it was warm. Now Loki sat on the floor, in front of the windows in the living area, with his arms resting across his knees, looking down as the lights of the city slowly blinked on while the sun sunk lower beyond the horizon. The sky was not yet dark, but in the bluish haze of dusk.  
            He was thinking distractedly of Asgard again, and of his family, and wondering what came next for him. Would Tony let him stay, once he was well again? Loki supposed it wasn’t likely. And where would he go, then? He chewed absently on a fingernail, quickly sifting through options that varied in degrees of unsuitableness. His mind wandered over the last couple of days fondly, and he closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. He would worry more about that later. For now, he could be a scrap of driftwood.  
            He certainly felt as washed out as driftwood, and as fragile. The edges of his eyes stung, and his breath was still several shades too warm. His very bones seemed to creak when he moved. He looked upwards and sniffed deeply, blinking at the soreness that had become much more apparent in his throat, and gave a little choked-off whimper. He rested his forehead briefly on his arms, but soon stopped when it made his nose run. Loki sniffled again and pressed the heel of his hand to the underside of his nose, wincing a little at his sore nostrils. He settled, eventually, on resting his chin against his arms and continuing to watch the lights blink on in the city below. Tony soon joined him, placing a bowl of food on the floor in front of him.

            Tony looked at Loki’s face as he bent to sit down beside him. He looked worn. There were dark circles ringing his cheeks beneath his red-rimmed eyes. The edges of his nose were bright red with irritation, a sharp contrast to the rest of his drained, lifeless complexion. Yet somehow, even as he sniffled pitifully against the back of his wrist, he was handsome. He eyed the soup, waiting for an explanation.  
            “Chicken and noodle soup. It’s supposed to make you feel better,” Tony said, somewhat new to this. The soup was from a can. “It’s probably too hot to eat right now; I’d give it a minute.”  
            Loki nodded and set the bowl off to the side while he waited for it to cool, watching steam curl languidly from the surface of the broth. Tony studied him, casually fascinated. For all the pride that Loki displayed for being a God Of Asgard, illness leveled him with the rest of humanity. Tony was beginning to wonder about the general recovery time of half-frostgiants when he noted a change in Loki’s expression. Though still gazing at his bowl of soup, his eyebrows knitted together in a look between anger and confusion, and the bridge of his nose crinkled slightly, giving off a vaguely disapproving air.  
            “What?” Tony asked. Didn’t they have soup on Asgard?  
            “I have the urge to sneeze,” Loki answered simply. Tony waited for him to sneeze and then answer the question. Loki sniffed again, and twitched his nose, the furrows in his brow deepening. Tony waited. Loki continued to stare at his soup with a condemning scowl on his face. Tony blinked.  
            “Okay. And?” he said.  
            Loki gave a congested sniff and twitched his nose again, drawing in half a deep breath. He let it go in a little huff. “I don’t seem able to.” he responded, expression changeless. Tony nodded in understanding at last.  
            “Here,” he said, rising to crouch close before him.  
            “What are y-?” Loki began. Tony shushed him, lightly placing a finger to Loki’s lips, in jest.  
            “I’m helping. Close your eyes.” he said.  
            Loki did as he was told. A tear leaked unbidden from the corner of his eye, gliding down the side of his face in a hot streak. This gave Tony pause. Crying? No, he decided. Irritation. God, but did he look miserable.  
            Tony had learnt a trick from Pepper last spring. They’d been vacationing in France, and his allergies had been bothering him something terrible. He’d spent half a day on the edge of a sneeze before finally she leant him aid.

            Tony cradled Loki’s face and traced his fingertips in a steady line down the bridge of his nose. Loki’s eyebrows raised, his nostrils flaring as Tony smoothed away the agitated crinkles between his eyes and felt for the sensitive place at which cartilage meets bone. Tony repeated the motion to be sure of the joint, Loki’s upper lip twitching involuntarily. He delivered a solid tap to the spot, and then sat back on his haunches.  
            Loki’s breath hitched immediately, his eyes squeezing even tighter shut. “ _Hh-hhyy-heh-HHYYESCCHH!!”_ he sneezed, downwards and towards his elbow, most of the sneeze landing on his forearm. He paused, momentarily unable to move, “ _Hhyyxchs! HA-EEEEESCHEW! Hh… Hh-Hhyy-Ixchs!”_  
            Loki sat with his nose buried in his elbow for two minutes, waiting for the next sneeze to come, and was relieved when it did, “ _Hh-yyxchss!”_  
            He let out a hoarse groan, and rested his mouth against his forearm, lacking the energy or will to open his burning eyes, let alone hold his head aloft. His throat was seemingly laden with shards of broken glass, his ribs ached, and his head throbbed painfully.  
            Loki looked up slowly when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder blade.  
           “Come on,” Tony said, helping him to his feet, “You should probably be in bed.”  
           To this, Loki nodded and put up no argument, but looked blearily towards the bowl of soup before fixing Tony with an absolutely heartrending puppy-dog stare. Tony consented.  
           “I’ll bring it to you later. Now, you need rest. Come on.” Tony helped him to his feet, lifting him by an elbow. He wobbled for a moment, but steadied himself on Tony’s shoulder and he made his way to the guest bedroom in a daze.

           Tony walked to the kitchen counter vaguely shaking his head. It would just happen that the minute someone who really understood him came into his life, some misfortune or another would befall him. Of course, he didn’t take into account what good fortune had already unfolded for Loki because of him- that he even now was safer than he’d been in years, and more comfortable than he’d been in many more. Neither did he realize how deadly worse-off Loki would have been had Tony not insisted upon his staying in Stark Tower for recovery, nor what good their companionship had in store for the both of them overall. He sealed the soup in a plastic container and stored it in the refrigerator for the next day, sighing and staring for a weary moment at the door handle before going to get ready to go to sleep.  
           Tony crept upon the doorway of the guest bedroom to find Loki nestled deep within the thick downy comforter of the guest bed, a low, steady snore rumbling forth from his sleeping form. He smiled. Good. At least he was resting. Before he collapsed onto his own cool, squashy bed, he gave Jarvis instructions to keep an eye on Loki during the night.  
           “Alert me if he seems to get any worse,” he said.  
           “As you wish, sir.” Jarvis replied.

           It was about two thirty in the morning when Jarvis notified him that Loki had awoken and was suffering from massive fits of shivering. Tony blinked himself awake and with a deep breath rolled out of bed, not even thinking of his slippers on his way to the guest suite.  
           Loki was indeed curled up in a sort of ball shape beneath the covers and shaking visibly.  
           “You zsh-should be … as-sleep.” He managed, his shaky voice barely more than a rasp.  
“I don’t sleep when the people I care about need me.” Tony responded, quick to sass in any given situation. When Loki smiled at him his teeth chattered. Tony approached the bed, and Loki was going to ask him what he was doing, but was hushed for the second time that day, “Shhh.” he was instructed, as Tony climbed atop the covers next to him. There was something different about being shushed by Tony. It wasn’t a theft so much as a comfort.  
            Tony spent the rest of the night lying wrapped as closely around Loki as he could. He was unsure of how to safely bring down a demi-god’s fever, but hoped to prevent any further chill. He didn’t really sleep, worried as he was about Loki’s health, but rather dozed in and out of a near slumber until the early morning. Every so often Tony would realize he’d fallen nearly asleep, and discreetly press his fingers to Loki’s forehead to gauge how he was faring. When finally he found Loki’s forehead to be cool, even if still mostly clammy, Tony breathed a sigh of relief and carefully removed himself from the guest bed. He padded back to his own room to change into some fresh, dry attire and slept through the rest of the morning.

            The first thing Loki did upon awakening was to sit up and wince at the fiery rawness in his throat that was sending tendrils of hot pain into his nasal passages with every breath. The second thing he did was to draw in a sharp gasp, and sneeze forcibly into the crook of his right arm, twice. The pain managed to seep into his chest and his bones, and took a minute or so to fade. Loki sat still with his head hanging and his face nuzzled into his arm, in the hopes that if he didn’t move at all, nothing else would ail him. This lasted all of about five minutes, and ended with him sliding his feet into fleece slippers that somehow felt rough, and shuffling pitifully to the bathroom. At least his feet didn’t have to touch the cold flooring on the way to the toilet. He caught a glimpse of himself as he passed the mirror over the sink and shook his head. He looked even worse than he felt; almost ghostly.  
            When he shuffled his way back into his room, he found Tony sitting at the foot of his bed. He was holding a tray with a glass of something orange-pink, along with the reheated soup from the previous night.

            Tony had awoken a few hours earlier, and had immediately gotten to work researching and cross-referencing sworn remedies for the common cold. He’d had Jarvis reschedule his day’s engagements to sometime next week. It wasn’t as if Loki could exactly go and see a regular physician, what with being non-human and all. Plus there had been the little stunt he’d pulled wherein he’d recently tried to destroy New York City and dominate all of humanity. No, Loki had to get well without professional medical assistance, and Tony was determined to see to it that he got well quickly.  
            By the time Loki woke up, Tony had already whisked together a concoction containing grapefruit, garlic, cactus-pear, and myriad other ingredients, which was almost guaranteed to cure anything from the sniffles to strep throat. The soup was there mostly for comfort.  
            “Eat this; you’ll be healthy again by tomorrow.” he promised. Loki sat up on the bed next to him, and made a sort of croaking sound. It was supposed to be the question, “What is it?” but it got cut off in an uncomfortable sounding crackle.  
            Tony cringed, and responded, “It’s a smoothie. …Kinda. It’ll make you feel better. Look, and there’s soup.”

            If Loki hadn’t been too tired even to grow frustrated, he would have been incensed that the one time he found someone willing to listen to him, he’d lost his voice, and was unable to ask even the simplest question. As it was, however, he looked at the meal in resignation, thinking that he might as well. After propping his pillows up against the headboard and settling back against them, Loki accepted the odd beverage and reheated soup that had been offered to him. Tony sat next to him and flicked on a wide screen television. The program that came on was documenting a family of small midgardian burrowing animals. Loki found the program to be strangely contenting.  
            At the first commercial break, and after a pointed stare from his bed partner, Loki eyed the thick pinkish liquid before him with apprehension. It appeared to have lumps in it. He looked at Tony pleadingly, but was given only a raised eyebrow, and so he steeled himself to take a small sip of the stuff. The beverage was sour and bitter, and it burned his throat terribly. Loki spluttered and almost succumbed to a terrible coughing fit, but managed to gain control over himself after not too long.  
            There was a sort of banana flavor whispering through the remedy that made it just this side of bearable, and kept him from gagging too much. If Loki hadn’t wanted so badly to be rid of his horrible condition, he’d have never forced himself through the entire wretched glass over the course of the next hour. The soup, on the other hand, was nice, and was a contrasting soothe to the medicine’s torture. He consumed them in turns, to make the experience more manageable. Tony took the tray and empty dishes from him, when he’d managed it all, and then returned to the bed with a fresh box of tissues.  
            “I noticed you were running low,” he said. Loki nodded and gave him a feeble smile in silent thanks. The rest of the day was spent watching more animal documentaries, until the channel stopped showing them and instead began to play a program concerning arrests of negligent pet owners. Then, Tony found a program on which some guy was learning different things you could do with various kinds of mud. The episode ended with pottery, but by then Loki had already drifted back off to sleep.

             The next morning, Loki was the first to awaken, a little too tired for having just slept. He was no longer chilled, and although his throat was scratchy, and his back was very sore, he felt many times better than he had the morning previously. As he cautiously sat up, the room didn’t even spin very much, and his headache had cleared away to a mild tenderness.  
            Tony was sleeping still next to him, and snoring. Loki watched him sleep for a few minutes before laying back down himself, with a deep breath. He never appreciated being able to breathe quite so much as when he was on the mend from an illness. He closed his eyes with worry casually creeping up in him again. Now that he was well, he did wonder about whether Tony would let him continue to live in the guest suite. He thought he’d better enjoy it while he could, and maybe express concern about a relapse later, if he was asked to go. Although he really didn’t want to put pressure on this new friendship of his. Perhaps he wouldn’t mention it.  
            Tony would allow him to stay, of course, what with the two them being kindred spirits and all. There were certain things that, once shared, would make a couple inseparable. Tony coughed in his sleep.


End file.
